


Nevermore

by FriendOfTheFugitive



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Act 3, Action, Blood Mages, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Kirkwall, Smut, Spoiler-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendOfTheFugitive/pseuds/FriendOfTheFugitive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris is content and happy with his life in Kirkwall- fighting along side the woman he loves and the people he has come to call friends. With Danarious dead, he safely assumes that all his demons have been put to rest. When he runs into a young Elven women in Kirkwall, he realized the worst of his problems have only just begun, leaving Hawke's freedom and life on the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give 'Em Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! A quick note that these are only the first three chapters to what I hope will be a pretty lengthy fanfic. I have posted something similar before, but after some criticism I removed the work and rewrote it, taking it into an entirely different direction. I will try to stay on top of posting three chapters once every one to two weeks, but no promises. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy! :D

"I'd like to see your amulets, please." Hawke smiled at the Trinketsmonger, the owner of Trinket's Emporium in Lowtown. The red headed female opened a display case full of silver and gold necklaces. Some glowed with magic and others simply looked beautiful. Hawke, Isabela and Merrill all crowded the case with fascinated eyes.The merchant explained the benefits of the magic amulets before she moved to explain the designs of the regular amulets.  
  
Fenris sighed audibly behind the group of women. His strong arms crossed over his proud chest as he shifted his weight into a relaxed stance. _I have yet to understand the concept of jewelry. If anything, it is simply a nuisance._ The edges of his lips curved into a content frown, his usual facial expression. With Danarius gone, Fenris felt more relaxed as he walked the streets with Hawke. The worst of his problems seemed to be at an end, finally.   
  
“Oh look at that broody little face.” Isabela quipped as she eyed a rather gaudy amulet that was being pressed in between her fingers. “How you resist him every second of the day is beyond me, Hawke.” Without warning, she guided the necklace over Fenris’ head and she let go of the chain just as quickly, in case he decided to relash.   
  
Fenris was pulled out of his deep thoughts. “I’m not brooding.” He defended himself weakly; at this point it was obvious to Fenris that he did brood. “Are you girls finished?” The low timbre of his voice was tight with agitation. He felt it pointless to fight against the unwelcomed jewelry. This was the fourth necklace they hung around his neck since this ‘shopping’ trip began.   
  
Hawke was paying the merchant when she sighed, “Oh Fenris, I told you that it wasn’t necessary for you to come along. Trouble usually doesn’t start until it gets darker, besides, I promised Isabela and Merrill that we would shop today. There was some extra coins laying around from your last big win at Dimondback. How could I let them go to waste?” Hawke spoke in her normal trustworthy tone. The edges of her vocals always seemed to be peppered with a teasing humor.   
  
Fenris heaved a heavy sigh. “I did not believe that it would be this…maddening.” The elf uncrossed his arms and he took a defensive posture, ready to move along to the next merchant stand. “I also did not think I would become a place for you to keep your purchases so you would not have to hold them.” The chains that clanked against his armor when he moved reminded him of how much he would tolerate for Hawke.   
  
“Why don’t you buy something for Hawke?” Merrill asked with innocent eyes. “I saw a pretty ring back in Hightown at Hubert’s shop.” She ran her thumb over the amber stone that was embedded into the charm on the necklace she had chosen.   
  
Fenris scowled at Merrill, but before he spoke, Isabela extinguished any sort of tension that may have risen between the companions. “I had my eye on it first, Hawke will have to duel me if she wants it.” Isabela giggled, “If she doesn’t want to duel, there are always other means of getting it from me. You’re invited too, Fenris.” She winked at him as a high, playful growl rumbled in her throat.   
  
“Fenris won’t be joining anything that involves you, Isabela.” Hawke knew that Isabela was only teasing, but the Pirate still struck up jealousy in Hawke. The feeling that Fenris would have given into Isabela’s charms, had him and Hawke not made up, was lingering in the back of the Champion’s mind.   
  
Isabela rested her hands on her hips, “spoilsport.” Then she was off, heading towards Hightown with Merrill close at her side.

Hawke smiled at Fenris before she hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow. Fenris softened immediately against her actions and he found himself wishing that they weren't both clad in armor. He returned the smile, one that he only used in the presence of his lady. It was without reserve, and it made Hawke’s heart flutter in her chest. Breaking the tender moment, she flicked one of the amulets and it caused a chain reaction of clanking around his neck. “I think they bring out your eyes.” Her smile melted into a playful smirk.

He stopped the clanking with a gauntleted hands. His mossy green eyes rolled in annoyance, but the short chuckle that he granted her let her know that he wasn’t upset. “Next time you ask me to accompany you to purchase some sugar, I’m declining.”

The couple began to follow their companions. “It’s the only way to get you out of the house, and I do love to infuriate every Orlesian that we pass. It’s a Ferelden thing.” Hawke kissed his cheek and unhooked from his elbow once they reached Hightown. It wasn’t because they were in Hightown, Hawke just wished to enjoy her shopping trip with her friends.  

Fenris scoffed, “I get out of the house.”

“I meant getting out of the house and doing things that don’t involve _blood_.” She called over her shoulder as she joined Isabela and Merrill to look at Hubert’s merchandise.

The elf chuckled, “that’s a difficult thing to do when everyone you meet attempts to kill you.” He went back to his stormy expression, warding any potential suitors off. When Hawke was declared Champion, not only was she suddenly invited to every Noble’s party, but she was also proposed to at least twice a day for the first two months. Hawke turned them down, but with each one her tolerance was growing thinner. Most everyone knew about her and Fenris by now, but that didn’t stop the brave ones who claimed that they could _‘fix her liking for the knife-ears and give her a real man’_.

Once Fenris started joining her in little tasks, the proposals stopped almost completely. There was only one incident that involved blood. Fenris had received word of an underground slave trade that was beginning in Hightown. It was a small operation, but Fenris wished to destroy it before it had a chance to grow. The Noble who was running the trade declared his love for Hawke right outside her Estate. Hawke simply brushed him off, but Fenris recognized his name from an informant (that Fenris eventually killed after he got the information he needed) and he crushed his heart in broad daylight.

A Templar saw, accused Fenris of blood magic, to which Fenris almost ripped his heart out. Hawke was able to stop the situation before anyone else died. Luckily Aveline was heading back to the Keep at that time. She explained the situation to the Templars and they moved along, not wanting to start anything with the Guard Captain.

The rumor of the incident spread, but it left out the part about the Noble being involved in a slave trade. Now every man in Kirkwall thinks that if they attempt to propose to Hawke when the _‘murdering knife-ears’_ is near, their _‘hearts will be ripped out of their chest and cooked up as his next meal’_. Fenris was intrigued with how rumors spread over a three day time period. Hawke was just amused by the whole thing.

“Hold this,” Isabela draped a thick Orlesian dress over his shoulder. The large frills that covered the skirt of the dress ticked his flesh. The dress itself was an ostentatious mix of green and yellow. Fenris automatically shrugged it off and took a few steps away from it. He glared at Isabela. She only giggled, picked it back up and threw it back over his shoulder. “Quit being fussy or I’m going to make you wear it.”

Merrill giggled at the image of Fenris being forced into a dress such as that, or any dress at all. “I think some women would be jealous if you put him in a dress.”

Hawke nodded silently to Merrill, to which Fenris growled deep in his throat. “Why must you have a laugh at my expense.” He moved his head so the frill wasn’t tickling his nose anymore.

Isabela had more dresses in her hands, “You’re cute when you’re broody.” She went to tuck them into his chestplate, but Fenris cringed and slid backwards, away from her advances. Isabela sighed and she tried again. Fenris smacked her hand away, the metal from his gauntlets scratched her leather, fingerless gloves. “You try, Hawke. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve put something in his armor.” She threw the shirts and pants at Hawke, who caught them with ease. “Come help me with the rest, Merrill.”

“The rest?" Fenris’s eyes widened, _how much more could there be?_

Isabela stopped beside Hawke, “Oh, I picked these up for tonight.” She winked. “He’ll enjoy them, I suspect.” Then she was off to the next stand, buying anything that that shimmered or attracted any sort of attention.

Hawke put whatever clothes that were cradled in her arm on the ground. She didn’t care if they got dirty, this was all of Isabela’s stuff. However, Hawke lived to tease Fenris. She began to pick up one article at a time. She draped them over his other shoulder and she tied the pants around his arms, avoiding the silken red fabric that was tied around his gauntlet. When he ran out of arm space, she gently tucked the clothing into the sides of his chest plate.

Fenris endured this embarrassment with only slight resentment. This was not the worst thing he had to do, and he wasn’t at all offended at the fact that Hawke allowed this. Fenris was a big boy, if he wished it to stop, he knew how to make it happen. In truth, he enjoyed seeing Hawke smile and laugh. The last few months have been stressful and troubling. Hawke was becoming just as broody as he was, and he continued to do everything in his power to soothe her nerves or simply make her relax.

She stopped and dropped her head to eye a skimpy pair of smallclothes that rested in her hands. They were black lace, fragile, and they seemed like they barely covered anything. Isabela sure did have a specific taste in clothing--covers as little as possible, unless it’s Orlesian. A red blush appeared on her cheeks as she thought about wearing them for Fenris.

Fenris’s eyes were fixed on her face, and when he saw the blush, he attempted to shift the dress so he could see what she was blushing at. He growled in frustration when the fabric rolled in his line of view. “What is it Hawke?” He meant to sound more relaxed, but what came out was an irritated demand.

Her head snapped upwards to him. “No-nothing,” she quickly tucked the smallclothes into the hip of his tights. His body flexed at the sudden movement of his trousers, then he let out a soft ‘Mmm’ before he realized that he was in a public setting. He froze as red covered his own cheeks. Hawke only let out a joyous laugh before she cupped his cheeks in her hands. “You’ll see later,” she spoke in a seductive manner as she winked and twirled away from him.

Isabela gave her a thumbs up, and Hawke let out the breath she had been holding. She was glad she did that smoothly instead of stuttering or tripping when she made her dramatic exit. “Did I miss something?” Merrill inquired as she placed a silver ring on her pinkie finger.

Isabela patted her head, “Don’t worry about it, Kitten. Grab the bags, I think Hawke wishes to get home to spend some alone time with Fenris.” She reached down and gripped the handles of a few leather satchels that held her new purchases. She sashayed over to Fenris and she hung the bags around his shoulders. When they slid from their original spot, Fenris lifted his arms out so they could catch on the crook of his elbow.

He sighed.

Merrill gathered up her purchases and then she almost jumped in mid-air as she spoke, “ _By the Dread Wolf_ , I forgot I had a lunch date with Nyssa! She gives me such a nice discount on firewood, I’d hate to keep her waiting.” Merrill waved goodbye and she quickly scurried off back to Lowtown.

Fenris did not bother with saying goodbye to the female elf. Instead, he made his way towards Hawke’s home, walking at a quicker pace than normal. He was officially over being their pack mule. That and his belly was rumbling, which reminded him that they didn’t even get what they went out there for. He would settle with some pancakes, courtesy of Orana. Hawke was a terrible cook and Fenris was likely to set the house on fire.

Isabela and Hawke were gossiping behind him. One conversation in particular caught his attention, “So, you and Anders?” Hawke started as her voice lowered.

Isabela raised an eyebrow for a second, then she understood. “ _Oh_ back in Ferelden, what about him? Are you _jealous_?” There was obvious mirth in her voice.

Hawke quickly defended herself, “No! Don’t be daft, I’ve just always wondered...what is that..” she bit her lower lip, “ _trick_ he does.” Fenris swore he heard a slight giggle come from Hawke.

“Oh, yes, that was _nice_.” She laughed, “To tell the truth, it didn’t have anything to do with sex. He would add a little bit of electricity to the booze. When we drank it, it would buzz all the way down. It was quite a nice shock.”

Fenris relaxed at the revelation, but he was also curious as to why Hawke cared in the first place. Hawke had only tolerance for Anders, and she didn’t really care about magic. Fenris was slightly concerned that Hawke was wishing to try something that he couldn’t provide. At this thought, a tickle of anger bubbled deep in the pit of his stomach. It was not the first time he became angry at the fact that he had little to offer the woman he loved.

 ****She laughed at Isabela’s lame pun. Everyone knew Hawke was a sucker for cheesy pickup lines, stupid humor, and ill-timed remarks. Her father was the king of wit, so Hawke was served with a nice reminder of her father whenever someone cracked a simple minded joke. Fenris had the same sense of humor as Hawke did, which Hawke was grateful for. He was just unlikely to display it in front of people he was not comfortable with.

Once they reached the estate, Hawke held open the door for Fenris, and Isabela followed after him but she waited in the foyer for Hawke. Fenris charged towards the main room.

“Welcome home Messere, how was your day?” Bodahn greeted politely from his usual standing spot.  
  
“Enchantment?” Sandal cooed after his adoptive father.   
  
Fenris grumbled a short ‘hello’ under his breath as he stepped through the foyer door with the bags and loose clothes hanging off every extension of his body. He shook his head when the thick dress fell into his face for the third time. The rough fabric tickled his nose, causing him to sneeze. At the soft giggles behind him, he growled and began to mutter Tevene curses under his breath.   
  
“Upstairs, Fenris.” Isabela waved her hand towards him in a dismissing way, “I have to talk to Hawke in private. You know, girl stuff and all that.” She rested her hands on her hips as a brazen smile crossed her lips.   
  
“Do you really believe that I am going to haul all of this—“   
  
“Go on, Fenris. I’ll pick my stuff up once I’m done.”   
  
Fenris grunted lowly before he examined his current situation. The bags weighed heavy on his arms, the necklaces were piled around his neck and the dresses, pants and shirts were hanging on his shoulders, tucked into his chest plate, and one pair of smallclothes were shoved into the hip of his tights. If he moved too suddenly, the risk of dropping everything and strangling himself was present. That and he did not want to make even more of a fool of himself. The women had done that enough.   
  
He walked towards the stairway with ease. The tricky part was getting up the steps. He shifted his eyes down so he could see each stair; the thick fabric in his chest plate obstructed his view. He settled with the fact that he would just have to feel for each rise of a step. With his bare toes, he carefully made his way up towards Hawke’s room. Once he reached the top, the Warrior sighed as he faced Hawke’s closed bedroom door.   
  
Isabela and Hawke were biting back laughter as they watched Fenris hobble up the stairs. Once he was gone, the Pirate turned towards Hawke. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are a lucky girl, Hawke. I can only imagine the _stamina_ he has. Not to mention how _good_ he must be with his hands.” There were goose bumps on Isabela’s arms, “Look I’m getting shivers just thinking of it.” She laughed her joyous laugh. “So, how is he?”   
  
Hawke’s neck was covered in red embarrassment. Her mind drifted to the special nights Fenris and her shared in each other's arms, their bodies mixing in raw passion under the heavy folds of love. She pushed the memories aside, refocusing back on Isabela. Hawke leaned in close, a teasing smirk pulling at the corners of her lips, “You should be, whatever you imagine, it's even better.”   
  
“Hawke! I want details!” Isabela  begged.   
  
There was a loud crash that got both of the women’s attention. “ _Venhedis_ !” Fenris snarled as he practically sprinted towards the banister of the second floor. With one swift movement, all of the clothes and jewelry that Isabela had purchased came raining down in front of the women.   
  
“Fenris!” Hawke called up to him in surprise.   
  
The elf grumbled more swears and turned away from the banister. He disappeared back into Hawke’s room.   
  
Isabela broke up in contagious laughter. “I expected that!” She snorted loudly as she gripped her stomach from the laughing pains. “I’m not cleaning that up, I’ll come by and get it tomorrow.” She said breathlessly before regaining her composure. She wiped away a stray tear. “Oh Hawke, don’t think I will forget. Meet me at the Hanged Man for drinks later, if you don’t have your hands full with _other_ things.” She giggled and made her way out of the estate.

Bodahn looked at the mess in horror. “Uh, messere, if you don’t mind me saying, your friends are quite the messy bunch. They can’t go two minutes without making some sort of chaos.” The old Dwarf sighed as he began to pick up the clothing and fold them in neat piles against the stairs.

Hawke smiled at him, “They are, aren't they?” She sighed before crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t worry about delivering them, I will find a runner. As for Fenris...I’ll deal with him.” Bodahn nodded and continued picking things up. Sandal joined him, but the young Dwarf mostly played with the jewelry.  

Hawke made her way upstairs, she wasn’t mad at Fenris for dumping all of Isabela’s stuff, in fact, she found it hilarious. Isabela won’t think twice about using Fenris as a hanger, but next time Fenris might not be so gentle with the items that are put on him.

The minute she closed the door behind her, she was shrugging off her armor. She went to the wardrobe and stuck the pieces in their usual place, careful not to step on Fenris’s armor that was piled neatly next to the wardrobe. She closed the wooden doors and sighed.

“I see what had you so embarrassed earlier.” Fenris spoke nonchalantly. He was laying on the bed, only in his leather tights. The fire of the hearth warmed his skin and softened the lean muscle that covered his lithe body. Next to him, replacing Hawke, was the pair of smallclothes that Isabela picked out. He smirked, “I’d rather see them on you, but they look nice against the bed, I suppose.”

Hawke couldn’t help but smile at him, red covered her cheeks at his discovery. She walked over to the bed before climbing onto the bed so she was straddling his hips. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her hips for the support of both of them. “They were supposed to be a surprise, you know, the ones with chocolates and roses.” She chuckled lightly as she ran her fingers through his silken hair.

Fenris always had nice, soft hair. He had mentioned that when he was a slave, Danarius kept his hair short and cropped to his head. It was the typical look of a male slave. When Fenris was on the run, his hair was the least of his priorities. However, he found himself enjoying the white locks that covered his head. It became a pride thing, after a while. Something he could enjoy with the freedom of being  a free man, thus he took good care of his hair. It was always clean and trimmed to his liking.

The elf looked at the smallclothes with a questioning glance, then he returned his attention to Hawke. “I think those would be uncomfortable, they don’t seem to cover much.” His voice dropped an octave as he began to sprinkle soft kisses all over her face where he could reach.

Hawke giggled as his lips tickled her skin, “That’s the point. I don’t think they would be on long enough to become uncomfortable.” She loosely wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her forehead against his. The feeling of his warm breath brushing against her skin was enough to send heat flushing through her being.

Fenris chuckled softly against her skin as his lips slid down her jaw line to the elegant muscles of her neck. His teeth nibbled on the soft flesh, relishing in the gasps that escaped her lips. He ran his fingertips down the front of her body. The thin fabric of her finery did not hide her nipples that hardened under his touch. With expert fingers, he untied the robe and slid it off her shoulders.

She melted with pleasure at his touch. Hawke dipped her head and managed to catch Fenris’s lips in hers. They shared a passionate kiss that sparked an inferno between them. Her tongue outlined his lower lip, begging for entrance. When his lips parted, their tongues swirled around each other. Hawke placed her hands on his chest as she began to grind against his hips.

Fenris let out a pleasurable moan that only encouraged Hawke’s movements. His fingers undid her breast band and he wasted no time when he began to suck on her right nipple. His tongue swirled around the bud in tight circles. When his teeth gently pulled at the flesh, Hawke’s nails dug into his chest as she gasped against his hair.

She squealed in joy when Fenris swiftly flipped them so she was below him. Fenris chuckled at her reaction before he continued to chew on the sensitive spot on her neck. His fingers slid down the length of her body, they dipped below the hem of her smallclothes and then they curved between her wet folds. His middle finger began to form tight circles around her clit.

Hawke squirmed at the sudden jolt of pleasure that coursed through her. Her hands clutched tightly onto his back as she relished in the feeling. “ _Fenris_ …” She moaned into his ear as she bucked her hips into his finger with mounting tension.

The elf would never get over how delicious his name sounded on her lips. Giving her what she wanted, he pushed his long, slender fingers into her core. His thumb continued to rub against the tight cluster of sensitive nerves as his two finger stretched her internal walls and curled upwards into her G-spot with long, agonizing movements. Fenris loved to tease her. He loved the little noises she made, and in his more darker nature, he loved the way she begged for him.

Her hips continued to rock uncontrollably against his movements as he drew her closer and closer to her end. Her teeth glided along the shell of his ear, which sent ripples of pleasure through Fenris. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades as she was swept away in her own lust for him.

Fenris was determined to finish her off strong. This was one of the many ways he helped her relax, she needed this release more than he did. Hawke wasn’t selfish, but Fenris wished to make this about her. He removed his fingers and stuck them in his mouth, lapping up her sweet juices. This drove Hawke crazy. With a seductive look in his darkened eyes, he glided his lips down the length of her body. His blunt nails followed his movements, leaving the slight pain that she loved in his wake. Fenris removed the last of her smallclothes and he tossed them aside carelessly.

She ran her fingers through his hair as he descended. Hawke propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him with excited eyes. Fenris wrapped his arms under her hips and he pulled her closer to him. He rested on his knees and lifted her so her bottom was resting on his chest. She giggled with anticipation at this movement.

The giggling was replaced with her panting breath and the moaning of his name once his lips made contact with her clit. His tongue flicked against her before he sucked and even nibbled on the area. The pleasure was overwhelming. Her hands flailed, trying to find some sort of purchase. One hand curled tightly around the bed sheets and the other hand clawed into his thigh. Her head pushed back into the mattress as her eyes screwed shut.

He could feel her convulsing against his tongue. He put more pressure on her, his tongue moved rapidly against her clit without mercy. He felt her hips tighten and his name was screamed from her throat. His tongue dipped into her release as his eyes locked on her gratifying facial expressions. When her body relaxed against him, he gently lowered her back onto the bed before he climbed back up to her side. Her breathing was heavy as she recovered from her climax.

Fenris moved some damp hair out of her eyes before he gathered her into his arms. He kissed away the salty beads of sweat that covered her face. She melted into him, languid and warm in every area of her body. When her breathing settled, she opened her eyes and gazed at him lovingly. He returned the look without restrictions. Fenris kissed her nose before he began humming a soft tune. It wasn’t very often that Fenris would hum, but it usually signaled that he was completely content where he was.  

Hawke drifted off to sleep in his arms. Fenris remained with her until his growling stomach reminded him why he wanted to go home in the first place. Home. The idea alone was foreign to him. Could he call this place ‘home’? Anywhere Hawke was signified home to him, perhaps it was time to make it official. Half of the stuff in her room was his, after all. He shrugged the thought off, Hawke allowed him to come and go as he pleased, but he prefered to be here. There was no need to say aloud what they already knew. Fenris kissed her forehead, expertly slid out of her arms and then he covered her with the silken sheets. She shifted and cuddled his pillow as she always did when he was away.

Fenris was careful not to step on any of the merchandise he left scattered on the floor. He opened the door and shut it behind him with a soft click. He made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was then he remembered that it was Orana’s day off today. Fenris shuffled through the pantry to look for anything he could eat. When he found nothing, he settled with taking an apple from the basket on the table. His teeth bit into the flesh and he relished in the juicey goodness. His quiet snacking was disturbed when he heard Aveline’s voice.

“Bodahn, where is Hawke? I need to speak with her.” The Guardswoman questioned the Dwarf in an annoyed tone.

“She is upstairs, would you like me to get her?” Bodahn spoke nervously, the red-headed woman intimidated him.

“Please--”

“Don’t. Rynne is resting, what do you need?” Fenris appeared in the main room. He took another bite of his apple as he eyed Aveline and Donnic. Donnic was in his casual clothes, a light green tunic and black tights. Aveline, however, was clad in her regular guard armor.

Aveline looked slightly surprised at Fenris’ appearance. His chest was bare. They could see the claw marks that were on his pectorals and if he were to turn around, they would spot the puckering red lines on his shoulder blades. His white hair was messy and there were holes on the thigh of his tights. If Isabela was here, the remarks would have been relentless.

Donnic was the one who broke the silence, “Fenris, it’s good to see you. I’m actually here to play a few hands of Dimondback. Aveline is here on different matters. I invited Varric and Sebastian as well, I hope that is alright.” Anders was in the Hanged Man when Donnic invited Varric. He was talking to Aveline when he heard about the invite. The mage whined at him and then called Fenris a _‘beast who couldn’t even put his differences aside to play cards’_. Donnic ignored the comment and Varric said he would be there in a bit.

Fenris took another bite as he contemplated, “I could use a few extra coins.” A cocky smirk pulled at his lips. “What does Aveline need, then?” Fenris knew Aveline had never seen him without his armor, but he had a hard time believing that he actually shocked her to silence.

Aveline recomposed herself, “There are a few thugs in Darktown who think that they own the place. I’d rather not cause a scene, and Hawke has a way with people. They are amateurish, at best.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think she would prefer to be woken up by you.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “Why not just kill them?”

Donnic was already setting up a table in the foyer, out of the conversation completely. He did not want to get between his wife and his best friend.

“The city is already on edge, we don’t need more unnecessary bloodshed.” Aveline responded simply. She had half a mind to go get Hawke herself, but getting past Fenris would prove difficult. She was a battering ram, but he was quicker.

Hawke woke up at the sound of Aveline’s voice. Panic washed over her when she saw Fenris was gone, but then she calmed when she heard the low rumble of his voice downstairs. That night had left deeper scars than she had ever anticipated. She stretched and reluctantly climbed out of bed. She used the wash basin to clean herself up before putting her armor back on. When she opened the door to her bedroom, she heard two new voices added to the mix. It wasn’t even dark yet and the commotion was already picking up in her home.

Varric laughed, “You’re supposed to put the spikes on your body, not in it.” He settled into his seat and began to shuffle the cards.

Sebastian looked bashful, “I hope Hawke enjoyed herself.” His own comment made his blush deepen before he silently prayed the bad thoughts away then shifted into his chair across from Varric.

“Hawke! There you are, I need help with some thugs in Darktown. I hoped to talk them out of doing anything rash. Care to lend a hand?” Aveline stepped further into the room, past Fenris.

Hawke yawned and spoke in a groggy tone, “Why not?” She shrugged as her eyes landed on Varric and Donnic, who were arguing about who should shuffle. Donnic insisted that Sebastian shuffle because it was against his faith to cheat. Varric reminded Donnic that Sebastian wasn’t allowed to play if money was involved. Donnic sighed and took his coins off the table and put them back in his pocket.

Fenris swept across the room to her side, breaking her concentration on the men. He kissed her lips gently before he whispered in her ear, “I was going to return. I seem to have been caught up in something else, however.” He chuckled, but Hawke heard the reassuring tone in his voice.

Hawke nuzzled his hair, loving the closeness they shared. “That usually seems to be the case with us. If this goes smoothly, I should be back shortly.” She began to smooth out his hair as a laugh escaped her, “You really should get cleaned up, though. It’s not that hard to figure out what you’ve been through.”

He gripped her hands and he pulled them towards his lips, “You make it sound as if I did not enjoy myself.” Fenris’s mouth curled into a tempting smirk as he kissed her slender fingers. “Be safe.” He let her hands go and made his way upstairs so he could clean himself up.

 **  
** Aveline lead the way out the door and Hawke waved goodbye before looking directly at Varric with a wicked smirk, “give ‘em hell.” She chuckled and Aveline ushered her out the door with a frustrated sigh.


	2. Am I Crazy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is drunk, old wounds are re-opened, and Ander's Clinic is now a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this one too closely, so I apologize in advance for mistakes. Thanks for reading! :3

Aveline and Hawke entered Darktown in silence. It wasn’t a good sign when the old friends weren't speaking. They knew everything about each other, but that didn’t stop their common philosophical debates or silly stories about their domestic lives. Hawke was the one to break the stalemate between them. “I’m sorry I didn’t invite you. I thought you had guard stuff to do.”

The red-headed woman scoffed. “I’m not upset about that, Hawke. I could care less about shopping.” Aveline lead them towards Anders’ clinic, where the thugs were causing trouble. She walked slightly ahead of Hawke.

“Don’t lie to me, Aveline. I know it bothers you.” Hawke pressed stubbornly, and when Aveline refused to answer, Hawke grabbed her shoulder and forced her friend to look at her. “Pretend all you want, but I really am sorry. I know you don’t like that ‘girly’ stuff, but I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. Besides, we are doing what we do best, cracking skulls and taking names.” Hawke smiled.

Aveline glared at the sudden pull, but she softened at Hawke’s words. “I guess you’re right. Although I want this resolved peacefully.” She sighed and rubbed her neck, “They’ve been a pain in my ass for weeks, it would be easier to just get rid of them.” Aveline looked directly at Hawke with a firm stare, “But that’s not how things work.” She spoke in somewhat of a mocking tone, but Hawke knew that she was serious.

With recent events, everyone was breathing down Aveline’s neck, waiting for her mess up. Aveline wished she could just arrest the thugs, but the prison was almost full. Crime had doubled since Orsino and Meredith’s public quarrel in the square. She assumed people thought that no one would pay close attention to petty crime since Mage’s were the first priority.

“There you are! These idiots won’t listen to me because I’m a Mage.” Anders greeted them at the door. There was a group of people outside, gathered around the entrance. “I had to move everyone out of the clinic, they were starting to get violent.” Anders could have easily killed every last one of them, but he was reserved about using his magic so openly (requested by Hawke). The Templars were sniffing around, and they were the last thing Anders needed on his tail.

“Hopefully they are not past reason.” Aveline sighed and made her way through the crowd. Stepping in front of Anders, she raised her voice to the people. “The guard is here to remove the threat. Please keep your distance from the door just in case things go awry.” The crowd took a few steps back and Aveline and Hawke went inside the clinic, shutting the doors behind them.

The lead thug was a burly man with a full beard and mustache but no hair on his head. He grabbed a health potion, cursed, then flung it across the clinic. It shattered against the far wall. The action reminded Hawke of Fenris. “‘e ain’t got gold, so ‘e ain’t gonna get more medicine.” The thug slurred. **  
**

He had three other men with him, all just as large as the lead thug. They laughed and went about smashing more potions and kicking over anything that wasn’t nailed to the ground. “Didn’t anyone tell you that the point of housekeeping was to clean _up_ the mess, not make one?” Hawke smiled at her own joke.

“W-who do you think you are?” The lead thug walked over to Hawke and Aveline with his groupies lagging behind him.

Aveline crossed her arms over her chest. It was her _favorite_ pass time, dealing with drunk, dangerous people.

Hawke shrugged, “that depends, who do you think I am?”

The thug burped loudly before a perplexed look crossed his face. His friend was the one who spoke up, “Boss, she kinda look like the-the Champion.” He scratched his bare chin, “I ain’t messin’ with the Champion. She killed them Qunari.”  

Hawke chuckled, “Glad one of you can see clear enough. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? How about you boys go down to the Hanged Man, get some drinks and rethink your life choices...or, I could kill you all, but I really don’t want to battle any bloodstains today. I just got my armor polished.”

The thugs paused for a moment.

Aveline readied her sword.

“Alright, you got a deal Champion.” The lead thug said before they drunkenly shuffled out of the clinic.

Aveline chuckled and shook her head, “I suppose I shouldn’t expect anything less, Hawke. You certainly have a way with people.” She sheathed her sword and shield and turned to leave the clinic.

Hawke followed her out. “I am going to have a few drinks with Isabela, after I check on the boys at home, if you care to join me. Isabela is paying.”                                    

Anders lit up with excitement at the invite, “I’d love to join you, but I won’t be drinking. Justice disapproves of it. I’ve got to clean things up in the clinic, first.” Anders was mostly focused on the fact that she didn’t mention Fenris.

Aveline shook her head, “I would, but Donnic and I have other plans. I have to get back to the Barracks then I’m going home for the night. Thanks anyways.” She smiled at her friend. “I’d be glad to accompany you back to Hightown, however.”

Hawke laughed and nodded, “sure Aveline.” They made their way back to Hightown. Hawke was explaining what happened with Fenris earlier and how he completely trashed the house with Isabela’s things. Aveline enjoyed the story then explained how Donnic refused to even shop for food with her. She said Donnic was picky about what he ate, and it drove Aveline insane.

Aveline dropped Hawke off at the estate and went back to the Barracks, her home away from home.

The estate was eerily quiet when she entered. The table was still set up in the foyer, but no one was there. She was surprised when Bodahn did not greet her as he always did. The Dwarf was not in his usual standing spot. Hawke reached for her dagger as she slowed her movements. She crept into the main room, ready to swing at anything that moved.

Thundering laugh from the kitchen calmed her nerves. She would recognize that laugh anywhere. Hawke sheathed her weapon and walked through the kitchen door. The smell of ale attacked her nostrils once she entered the room. Her light green eyes took in the sight.

Sebastian was cheek down on the dining table, passed out drunk. Varric’s face was bright red from holding in laughter. Fenris had managed to find the frosting that Hawke was saving for his upcoming birthday. The frosting was globbed in Sebastian’s hair, and smeared all over the former Prince’s face. Donnic and Fenris were putting berries, wine corks, and basically anything small that would stick to the gooey surface, on him. Sebastian snored loudly, and all three men laughed like little children.

Varric was the first to notice Hawke. He put his stubby finger to his mouth and let out a drunken, “ _Shhh_ ” before he snickered and turned back to Sebastian.

Fenris placed a strawberry at the very top of Sebastian’s head. Then he dipped his fingers into the bowl of frosting and globbed more onto Sebastian’s hair. The elf began to kneed the frosting into his hair, and once it was covered, he pulled the strands out into spikes. He giggled at his creation. Sebastian looked like a blue porcupine.

Donnic seemed to be the least drunk, but he was still coaxing his friends on. “Cut a hole...yes put it on his…” a torrent of restrained laughter, “yes like a jester…” Now Sebastian had a bright red strawberry nose, courtesy of Fenris and Donnic.

“If Her Grace could see him now,” Hawke cut into the strained silence of the men trying to hold in their laughter.

Varric snorted and nodded wildly at the idea, “Let’s go show Her!” The Dwarf slammed his tankard down on the table, a little too loudly then he meant. The sharp sound alerted Sebastian awake. His head shot up from the table and a few objects bounced off his shoulders to the floor.

Donnic laughed loudly and then grabbed Varric by the arm, “I’d rather not be here when he comes to! Good luck Serah!” Varric stumbled after him, and when Donnic tripped over nothing, Varric toppled on top of him with a loud thud. They laughed and clambered back to their feet. When Donnic hiccupped, Varric laughed like a schoolgirl. It took a few minutes, but they finally found their way out of the estate.

Sebastian looked dazed as his vision focused in on where he was. “Oh, my head.” When his hand went to scratch his skull he felt all the frosting that coated his hair. “What in the Maker’s name…” Fenris’s laugh boomed as he lurched to Hawke’s side. When he kissed her cheek, his breath stung with alcohol.   

Hawke ignored Fenris and went over to Sebastian. It wasn’t the first time he became a victim of a drunken prank. He should just be glad they didn’t draw something phallic on him again. Although the frosting could take months to fully wash out. Hawke stepped into the Prince’s view. “Sebastian, you’re at my estate. Varric, Donnic and Fenris put frosting and various objects into your hair and on your face. I’ll run a bath so you can clean up before going back to the Chantry.” She spoke slowly and kindly.

Sebastian nodded carefully as he continued to pluck out any objects his hand touched from his hair. “I appreciate it, Hawke.” Sebastian had a hard time holding his liquor. After years of only having a few drinks here and there, his tolerance degraded to almost nothing. The others could, and they could remain (mostly) functional after knocking back a few.

Fenris capriced. His rejected affection towards Hawke left his bubbly mood melting with the sudden anger he felt. When Hawke made her way upstairs to draw Sebastian’s bath, Fenris stormed after her. “Where were you?” He began to wade through the fog in his mind to what was actually bothering him.

Hawke was surprised by his accusing tone, she remained calm, however. Fenris wasn’t an angry drunk, so Hawke immediately knew something was deeply troubling him. “I told you, Fenris, I was out with Aveline. Some thugs were destroying Anders’s Clinic. They left without major damage or injuries.”

Fenris remembered when Aveline came in earlier, but she never mentioned it had to do with Anders. Donnic was the one who mentioned that. _Anders._ Fenris growled low in his throat as he thought about the Mage. Hawke poured the kettle full of hot water into the metal tub. The steam caused Fenris’s arms and neck to be slick with perspiration. “You were with Anders?” He finally pressed.

Hawke hooked the kettle back above the fire. She stood and called down to Sebastian. Then she turned to Fenris. “Yes, I was helping Anders. Does that bother you?” Hawke wasn’t in the mood to fight, but in no way was she backing down. Two headstrong people in an argument never ended well on either side.

Fenris shifted into a defensive posture. His hands were tightened into balls by his sides. “No, but what does vex me is your intense curiosity on his ‘electricity trick’.” He snarled the words, Fenris was more bothered by the fact that it was Anders than the fact that it had to do with Magic.

Hawke rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh come on Fenris! Why must you be so _jealous_ of him? It’s not like I am going to ruin everything we’ve built for some daft trick!” Sebastian hesitated by the door frame, afraid to enter the room, but ready to intervene.

Fenris waved his hand at Hawke in a dismissive manner as he scoffed, “I am not jealous of that abomination.” He looked at Hawke straight on, his posture was challenging. Fenris continued to wrestle with his thoughts through the fog. This was getting to be too much for his brain to process. He couldn’t quite grasp why he was upset, but that didn’t stop him from continuing.

“Do you not trust me enough to control my ‘urges’?” She shook her head in anger, “Go ahead Fenris, if you’re really that upset over me helping a friend, then you can leave like you always do. You should know where the door is, you managed to find it perfectly fine the last time.” Hawke went straight for the kill, ending the argument. Growing up with Carver and Bethany provided Hawke with a deadly tactic when arguing, and it was a sure fire way to end one. The tactic was the same way she fought, go for the kill before it kills you.  

“Hawke--” Sebastian started as he stepped into the room. Everyone knew what happened between them. Sebastian had watched how the incident affected the elf in the privacy of his home. Fenris refused to leave the Mansion for a week, as Hawke did her estate. Sebastian went to check on his friend, and the poor lass was sitting in the middle of his room, passed out with broken and half empty wine bottles all around him. Fenris drunkenly confessed what had happened when he came too. Sebastian knew how badly it affected him, and bringing it up again was a cruel cut.

Fenris froze. A wave of guilt washed over him. The fog lifted in his mind and he realized what he had done. It was obvious to both men that she had tears welling in her eyes. The elf knew that the scars he left on Hawke’s heart ran deep. He often caught her checking to make sure he was still there in the middle of the night. He would merely pull her into his chest and kiss her hair until her breathing signified she was asleep.

The way Hawke had reacted to that night was ugly. She completely shut him out, protecting herself from the blow she had anticipated since she saw him standing there. Hawke screamed at him to leave, cursing him all the way out the door. He didn't know she had collapsed in a pool of tears, completely broken up about what she said to him until Aveline came and tore him a new one a few days later. Hawke understood that he wasn’t ready for intimacy, and that he didn’t know how to deal with the trauma it triggered. Her own fears over losing him got in the way, and she hated the way that she treated him after.

Hawke was closed off to him for the next couple months. He understood. After the agonizing remarks that their companions made while traveling, and the constant threat of breaking their silent agreement not to speak of things whenever one of them were injured, another rumor fluctuate through the group that made Fenris happy but furious all at the same time.

It was no secret that Hawke searched for companionship with Anders after Fenris broke it off. The rumor was that Anders was so close, until the fool insulted Fenris. Hawke realized how upset that made her and she broke it off then and there, feeling terrible for almost using Anders for revenge against Fenris’s actions. Hawke remained faithful to Fenris, even when he left her. Perhaps she was too stubborn to let go, or maybe she just refused to lose another person she loved.

He dropped his head in shame. The room was thick with tension and awkward silence. “Rynne, I--” He reached for her, but his hand was brushed away by hers. His head snapped upwards but his eyes only captured empty space. He cocked his head towards the door.

Hawke slipped past Sebastian, who had muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before he watched her leave. The former Prince redirected his attention on Fenris. He had forgotten how ridiculous he looked. “Fenris, do not worry, Hawke will come back--”

“ _Fasta vaas!_ Take your bath then leave.” Fenris snarled, but the pain that tightened his vocal cords alarmed Sebastian. The elf pushed past him and slammed the door. Sebastian sighed and stripped himself of his armor. He lowered himself into the warm water and began to scrub away the frosting from his hair, worried about his friends.

Fenris had found his way to the cellar. He needed to rid himself of this boiling anger. He walked along the dusty corridor and crawled through the latch that lead to Darktown. He had nothing but his sword and his house clothes. He didn’t care, he needed to feel a little pain as punishment for the pain he caused to Hawke. When he emerged in front of Anders clinic, it took all his willpower not to start something with the Mage. He ignored the clinic completely and headed off to the Undercity. As he walked off, he could feel Anders’s eyes slicing into his back.

Hawke was in the Hanged Man before she knew it. Her mind was rolling with the argument. They didn’t argue often, and when they did, they made up easily. Hawke was up to her neck in issues, she didn’t need the stress of her relationship with Fenris straining on top of all of it. The Champion put on a happy face as she entered Varric’s back room in the tavern.

Isabela had her feet up on the table, crossed at the ankle. Her hands were moving wildly as she continued to tell the tale of one of Hawke’s adventures, “...so we get to the very end of the Wounded Cost and this Blood Mage is nowhere to be seen. Hawke and I are looking everywhere, right? As we are about to give up, we hear a cry for help on the cliffs below. Hawke looks over the edge, and sure enough, there he is. The fool explained that he tripped off the cliff when he was trying to cast a spell. How mages manage not to kill themselves is beyond me.” She took another swig of whatever foul liquid was in her tankard.

“Most mages have enough wit to not cast spells on cliffs.” Anders answered Isabela as he walked in behind Hawke. Hawke flinched at the sudden voice in her ear, but she smiled when she saw it was Anders. “Glad you decided to join us, I saw Fenris in Darktown. You two alright?” Anders made his way into the room and sat in a chair next to Varric. He pushed out the seat to his left and invited Hawke to join him at the table.

Hawke obliged, but the mention of Fenris soured her mood. She made little show of it, ordering a drink as soon as her butt hit the seat. “ _Sure_ ,” she answered without commitment. The way she spoke caught Varric’s attention.

“I only left you guys alone for an hour, how did something manage to go wrong?” He leaned forward towards Hawke. The tankard that Norah had set down in front of him was untouched.

Hawke laughed, it was a strained laugh that tipped everyone off to what might have happened. She chugged the drink that was put in front of her. She waved towards Norah, ordering another. “Varric, you’re asking me what could go wrong in an hour?” Another drink came and she chugged that one down too. “Hell, the Qunari declared war in under twenty minutes.” Hawke reached for Varric’s drink and she downed that faster than the rest.  

Anders was worried about Hawke. She only drank like this when she was deeply hurt. Anders was the one who had to take her home from the Hanged Man the day after Fenris left her. However, he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her to slow down. Hawke was extremely reasonable, but her wrath was something no one but Fenris trifled with.

“Right back to the Qunari, can’t we put those horn heads to rest?” Isabela sighed before she took her feet off the table and slapped down a deck of cards in their place. “Anyone up for Strip Wicked Grace?” She flashed a devious look.

Varric laughed, “Andraste’s tits, Rivaini, what do you have against clothes?”

“They’re restricting.” She puckered her lips then began to shuffle the cards and deal them out to everyone.

As the night progressed, Hawke continued to knock back her drinks in a quick fashion. She was plastered in no time, and her once dark mood was now bubbly. The comments that poured from her mouth without restriction had the group busting up laughing. Until Varric mentioned that Fenris seemed to have a natural ability to win at any game they played.

Hawke slammed her mug against the table and locked eyes with Varric. Her goofy grin was replaced with a serious scowl. Despite her grim look, her voice was still light and humerous. “I don’t understand Fen sometimes.” Her arms outstretched and she sunk into her seat in an exaggerated movement. She only called Fenris ‘Fen’ when she was extremely drunk. The same went for Fenris, who called her ‘Jay-Haw’ when he was drunk.The ale tipped over the lip of the mug and splashed onto the table. “I waited,” it looked as though she was counting, “ _three years_ for him to come back.” She laughed in disbelief. “Who in their right mind waits for three years for someone who broke their heart? Am I crazy or what?”

Varric nodded. “That’s what we’ve all been saying, the crazy part, not the waiting part.”

Hawke sighed obnoxiously. Then she leaned over Anders’s lap so she could get closer to Varric. Anders was shocked when her hand clumsily brushed against his crotch, then he was in pain when her hand crushed down upon his thigh, supporting herself. He put his hands up above her body so it didn’t seem as though he was fondling her under the table.

She grabbed Varric’s jaw and directed his attention towards her. Her eyes were sad and her happy voice dropped to one of self doubt and worry. “Is Fen right, Varric? Do you think I’ll fuck Anders on accident?”

Isabela snorted, “I don’t think you can ‘ _accidentally_ ’ fuck someone, Hawke.”

Anders was hurt and intrigued. Was Fenris really jealous of him? Was Hawke afraid that she wouldn’t be able to resist him? Still, he had to defend himself against her accusation that he would even go as far as tempting her when he knew she was with Fenris. “I would never--”

“ _Shh_ , Varric and I are speaking.” Hawke took her hand off of Varric’s jaw and she placed it against Ander’s face, silencing him. She kept it there as Varric finally spoke.

“Hawke, whatever you two were arguing about is between you and Broody. I don’t think either of you are capable of having an affair. He’s too loyal and you love him way too much. Plus, both of you are too stubborn for your own good.” He smiled at Hawke before he looked at Anders, “Take her home Blondie. She’s had enough to drink.”

Hawke thanked Varric with a less-than-graceful pat on his shoulder and went to sit back up, but her hand slipped and she fell onto Ander’s lap. Her head hung over the side of his leg and she laughed. Anders let out a surprised gasp before he carefully began to lift her from his lap. Once he managed to sit her up in her seat, a low voice made his hands immediately yank away from her body.

“No need, Mage.” He stepped into the room, still in his normal clothes. The skin on his lip was broken, but other than a few minor scratches and knicks, he looked fine. Fenris easily scooped Hawke up in his arms. She cooed his name and he gave her a gentle “hello, love.” He nodded towards Varric before swiftly exiting the Tavern.

Once the cool night air hit their faces, Fenris angled Hawke so she was leaning into his chest, shielded against the winter breeze. Hawke’s fingertips idly traced the Lyrium markings on his chin and neck, leaving a glowing light in their wake. “Fen, I--”

“No, Rynne. I apologize for taking out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I would do well not to pick fights when there needn’t be any.” His nose gently nuzzled her hair, his warm breath brushed along her forehead.

She giggled at his tickling movements, her fingers went to the front of his tunic. She played with the fabric. “I shouldn’t have said what I said, Fen. I’ve already forgiven you for what happened that night...but I get worried. Nothing could be worse than--”

“...the thought of living without you.” Fenris finished with a small smile at his lips. He stopped at the front of the estate so he could shift Hawke into an easier position to get both of them through the door. She was sitting up, her chest was against his and her face was nuzzled into his neck with her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He supported her by hooking one arm under her bottom and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. **  
** He reached out to open the front door and she shut it lazily behind him. She began to chew idly on his neck as he carried her upstairs. He stood in front of the bed and began to stroke her hair gently. His lips were at her ears and he spoke in a sultry whisper, “I am yours.”


	3. The Ones That Got Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a daily chore at this point, hunting down Blood Mages, except this time one of them says something that marks the beginning of the unraveling of Fenris's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a quick edit on this, my apologizes again. I will come back and edit hopefully. Thanks! New chapters should be posted within a two week period.

The sound of Hawke giggling followed by Fenris’s deep chuckle wafted through the freezing night air. Anders was glowering into the dancing orange flames of the camp fire. He was clutching onto the insides of his thick coat, trying to keep in all the heat he could. The sounds were silent torture, but the cold was worse.

“You’re acting like a child, Anders.”

Anders stood corrected. The noises were agonizing, the cold was insufferable, and the only company he had was the do-gooder Aveline. It had been a fortnight since Hawke’s drunken night at the Hanged Man. Fenris and her had been inseparable, only leaving Hawke’s Estate when Aveline rallied them up to help hold back the chaos. Once the job was over, the couple went back to Hawke’s bedroom to make up for the loss time.

“You can’t keep chasing after Hawke like this. She’s made her choice and I say it’s about time you move on.”

Anders rolled his eyes to her comments. It was none of her business. His glare deepened, tuning out the noises that came from the only tent they brought. It had been two days since they made their way up Sundermount. A mudslide had made the trek too dangerous and they were forced to camp out for the night to wait for the conditions to become safe again. Hawke had received a letter from Meredith stating that there was a group of Blood Mages camped at the top of the mountain. Orsino intercepted Hawke before she left and asked that she try not to kill the Mages unless she was sure they were Blood Mages.

“What’s got you so bothered about them, anyways?” The Guardswoman was covered in a thick coat that she had coveted from Donnic. She too was leaning towards the fire, trying to remain warm. She didn’t mind camping out, under the stars, she also didn’t really mind the cold. Aveline wasn’t even upset that Hawke got the warm shelter of a tent. Hawke brought the tent, it would be selfish to ask if she could stay in it. _If I wanted a tent, I could have brought my own._

In all honestly, Fenris wouldn’t mind sleeping outside and leaving Hawke to enjoy her time by herself or to allow the Mage and Aveline some time against the cold. On the run, Fenris didn’t often get shelter. He was used to the cold, and he actually enjoyed the night sky. It was something he never got to admire during his time as a slave. The elf was more than happy to keep Hawke company, though. The night sky would be there when he was done.

Anders shifted uncomfortably. His bottom was numb from the hard ground and his feet were tingling with sleep. He took a deep, frustrated, breath before he finally responded to Aveline. “He already caused her more pain than she deserved, but she took him back anyways. What’s keeping him from leaving the minute he finds himself in a tight spot?” Chills ran through his spine, which caused him to pull his coat closer to his body.

Aveline didn’t waver at his explanation, “So you would be capable of keeping her safe? Anders, she is a big girl who is perfectly capable of making her own decisions.” She kept her gaze on him, ignoring the sudden shriek of joy from Hawke and the chuckled-shushing that followed.

Anders cringed at the sound. “It’s easy to control myself around her. She’s like an anchor…” There was a ball forming in his throat, “Aveline, she has been the only constant in my life since I met her...I can’t watch him hurt her again…I won’t allow it.” His eyes flashed with an eerie, glowing blue, but he quickly snapped them shut and regained control.

The red-headed woman was not alerted at the flash of light through the fire. It was a mere blip in her eyesight compared to the numerous streaks of light that shone through the thin fabric of the tent. Fenris had been glowing for hours. “You have to stop reducing Fenris to what he use to be. If you two actually had a conversation, you’d come to find he has changed in a lot of ways, mostly for the better. She has even convinced his views on magic to grow slightly lax. He only fronts with you because he does not wish to be preached to about magic, which has caused him nothing but harm since he could remember. You have to see it from his--”

“Every restriction put on me because of my magic has caused _me_ harm since I could remember. I am constantly being punished for how I was born. The Circle is no better. They pretend it is, but it’s nothing more than a prison. We have limited contact with our loved ones, we are taught that our magic is nothing but a plague, and if we do not cooperate, we are cut off from the one place Mages can be free and reduced to mindless husks. Do not lecture me, Aveline. I’m not your husband and I am not Hawke.” Anders stood and grabbed the blanket he was sitting on. He took his things and moved to the far side of the camp, away from the fire and away from the heated noises that came from Hawke’s tent.

Aveline was taken aback by Ander’s sudden ferocity. She could feel the hurt in his voice, thus making her drop the subject completely and ignore his jab at her. She watched him make his way across camp, and with a sigh, she too adjusted herself so she could try and catch some sleep. Chances were they would have to fight the apostates and Aveline needed rest in order to be able to fight to her fullest. Her green eyes focused on the flickering flames as sleep overcame her.

Fenris collapsed onto Hawke’s chest. They were both breathing heavily, recovering from their previous activities. Fenris listened to the sound of her rapidly beating heart as her fingers gently played with his strands of white hair. Once Fenris was recovered, he slipped out of her and adjusted both of them so they were looking at each other on their sides.

As always, Hawke grazed her fingertips over any Lyrium marking she could see. The couple had discovered that this method helped sooth the pain his markings had caused him on a daily basis. In truth, Hawke loved the way they lit under her touch and she loved how tragically beautiful they were. Fenris told her that his markings did not deserve such attention, but that never stopped Hawke.

Hawke lifted her emerald eyes from the contours of his neck and chest to meet his mossy irises. They curled into each other automatically, their hands and arms entwining between the small space where their chests did not touch. He kissed her fingers as he always did, slow and sweet.

“Fenris…” She started but hesitated, her eyes dropped from his. When a chill gripped her, Fenris freed his hand and tugged the thick blanket she brought over them. “Thanks…” She murmured.

“Anything for you, Rynne.” He promised before kissing her nose. He was curious as to what she was going to say, but he did not feel like pressing the matter any further. If it was important, she would continue on her own.

In return, she kissed his chin and smiled lovingly before she nuzzled her face into his cheek and then brushed her nose down to the base of his neck where she remained. “Do you believe in Fate?” She whispered the words, Hawke was not a believer in the Chantry among other things, but the idea of Fate was very appealing to her. Maybe it had to do with Flemeth’s words.

“No.” He did not even entertain the idea for a second, which only made Hawke continue.

“Do you think the mess I am involved in was just something I stumbled into, then? Do you think us meeting was accidental? I mean, the idea of smuggling Lyrium was something I wanted to originally pass up, but Isabela suggested it would be something fun to try.” Hawke wasn’t angry with Fenris, and the softness in her voice kept the mood tender.

Fenris paused, contemplating her words. “You must have been shocked, then.”

“About what?”

There was mirth in his voice, “That your Lyrium was actually embed into a ‘ _perfectly handsome elf’ ._ ” He chuckled and she feigned hurt.

“So I’m not the best at pick-up lines. We were covered in blood and Demon guts, I suppose it wasn’t the best time to let something like that slip out. It was worth it, though.”

“How so?”

She pulled away from his neck to look at his eyes, “You’re even cuter when you are flustered. I mean, here you are, a seasoned warrior that can rip a man’s heart out of his chest, blushing because a beautiful women complimented you. I couldn’t have been the first to do so.” She kissed his nose before he pressed his forehead against hers.

He shrugged lightly, “It caught me by surprise, besides, most the compliments I received were from shopkeepers or whores. I never expected a Rogue such as yourself to comment on my appearance after you learned I was an escaped slave.” His eyes drifted close, heavy with sleep.

Hawke kissed his lips with nothing but love, and he kissed her back with lazy movements. She snuggled close to his body, her own eyes growing heavy with sleep. “I love you, Fenris.” She whispered against his collarbone.

Fenris perched his head on hers as he wrapped his arms around her, closing any space there was between them. “As for us, I believe we would have found our way to each other no matter the circumstance.” He spoke gently, as if speaking to himself. “As I, you.” He whispered into her ear before they both grew quiet.

* * *

 “Come on you two, the path is safe.” Aveline spoke as she pushed her head into the tent. The Guardswoman had forgotten how messy of a sleeper Hawke was, and Fenris seemed to adapt this habit. He use to sleep curled tightly into a little ball, taking up as little space as possible. Hawke was on her stomach, her arms outstretched and tucked under her pillow. One leg was bent and the other out straight. Fenris was also laying on his stomach. His arm was stretched over Hawke’s back and he was practically covering half of Hawke’s side with his body. His face was buried into the pillows. The blankets, thankfully, were pooled at their hips, covering any sort of unsightly views.

Aveline clapped her hands and spoke again, “We’ve got to get going, wake up and get dressed.” The sharp smacking noise of her palms caused Fenris to stir. His movements woke up Hawke, who was a heavy sleeper. Fenris lifted his head and squinted into the light. He groaned and dropped his head back into the pillows.

“Rynne,” he said in his gruff morning voice. She groaned as well and lifted her hand to wave Aveline off. Fenris rolled off of her onto his back. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, the blanket peeled off his stomach but kept everything hidden.

“If you wait any longer, Anders is going to eat all the food,” Aveline threatened before she let the flaps to the tent close. She made her way back to the sleeping Anders. He was even worse to wake up in the morning because he always fell back asleep. Fenris and Hawke just weren't morning people, but once they were up, they were up. So Aveline switched tactics. This was the third time she had to reawaken Anders, and she was tired of doing so. Grabbing a bucket of water that they kept in the camp, she poured it out on him.

Anders screamed himself awake when the cold water soaked his body. He stood up rapidly and began to yell at Aveline, who was biting back laughter. He groaned in frustration and cursed under his breath as he began to dry himself off with a light heat spell that radiated from his fingers.

“Sometimes I feel like screaming the first moment I wake up.” Hawke joked as she sat up and stretched. Her spine cracked and she let out a satisfied ooh. “Duty awaits, love.” She went to stand up, but Fenris grabbed her hips and pulled her into his lap. She giggled wildly.

“I’m sure they can wait a moment longer,” Fenris assured her as he placed his hand on her cheek and guided her lips to his. He kissed her tenderly, showing through actions exactly how he felt about her. It was enough to send her heart fluttering and her stomach churning with butterflies.

Hawke lived for moments like this, but the sound of Aveline making her way back towards the tent broke them apart quickly. “Unless you wish to see us naked, I suggest staying outside the tent.” Hawke warned Aveline, who stopped dead in her tracks.

Anders rolled his eyes, “Lucky bastard, gets to sleep in a warm tent with the perfect woman. Oh how quaint. Let’s all just _do it_ in the forest! Seems like a perfectly safe idea. What if we were attacked last night? Would they come running out in their smallclothes with swords drawn? That would _certainly_ stop the evil doers.” He was muttering bitterly as he continued to dry himself off. Once done, he snatched up his meek breakfast of two pieces of toast and an apple. He ate them sullenly by the remnants of the fire.

Fenris was the first one to emerge from the tent. His hair was messy with bed head, and his face was covered with the effects of being woken up when all he wanted to do was sleep. He took his serving of breakfast and ate it silently. He chewed quickly like he always did. Old habits died hard.

“How did you sleep, Fenris?” Aveline was always the one to start up small talk in the morning.

“Decently, and yourself?” Fenris replied civilly, his voice still low with sleep. He looked over his shoulder to the tent when Hawke squeaked. He watched the shadow of her figure fall, but she gave out a reassuring comment to let everyone know she wasn’t hurt.

Aveline’s eyes drifted from the tent and went back to the elf’s face. She smiled, “pretty well, actually. Once you get to sleep, the cold isn’t so bothersome. I was more worried about getting eaten alive by insects.”

Anders scratched his arm as if to confirm her fears.

Hawke emerged from the tent and plopped herself down next to Fenris. “Good morning everyone. Ready to catch some Blood Mages?” She grabbed her breakfast and ate up.

Anders lit up at her appearance, “We don’t know if they are Blood Mages, but yes, I’m ready to get back to Kirkwall and get this over with.” He stood and brushed off the dirt from his robes. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

The team decided to pick up camp when they were headed back to Kirkwall. They made it to the top of Sundermount with little incident. Anders and Fenris only got into one brief argument about the Mage vs Templar debate, but Fenris ended it with his famous ‘ _leave it be_ ’ phrase.

“Come no closer! We are just passing through, we do not want any trouble.” The head Mage warned them with his staff at the ready. There were two other mages behind him, they looked younger than the man in charge.

Hawke approached them cautiously, “We are here to talk, I do not wish this to end in violence. What are your names?” Anders stood by Hawke, pushing Aveline farther to the side. Fenris remained hidden behind them. Anders wished to show them that he was a Mage as well.

The lead mage hesitated, but he lowered his staff. “My name is Reger, we are are not Blood Mages. I know how paranoid Kirkwall is about Mages. We are only looking for safe passage.” The female on his left shifted uncomfortably. The male on his right refused to meet Hawke’s gaze.

Hawke was going to speak, but Anders cut in. “We will allow you safe passage, good luck on your travels.”

Fenris walked up to Hawke’s free side. He glared at Anders, “Blood Mage or not, we were told to stop them.”

Reger looked at Hawke, his staff was raised again. The male on his right lifted his eyes to examine Fenris. His face lit up with recognition. “Reger…” He muttered as he nudged the head Mage.

Anders noticed the young male’s actions.

Hawke saw the young female slide a dagger across her wrist behind the robes of the lead mage.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

“Blood Mages!” Aveline yelled as she readied her sword and shield.

Justice erupted from Anders with terrifying ease. “You disgrace all Mages!” He howled as he stuck the end of his staff into Reger. Reger let out a cry of pain as blood flooded from his mouth. Slashing his staff to the left, he set the other female on fire with a spell from his hands. Her scream pierced the air. He pointed the top of his staff at the other male, who Aveline had knocked to the ground.

Justice was about to cast a spell, but the boy shouted something that immediately caught Fenris’s attention. “Wait! I know about the markings! I know how to get rid of them! Let me live and I’ll tell you! Please!” Fenris grabbed Anders’ shoulder and yanked him away from the boy.

“Tell me what you know!” Fenris snarled as he wrapped his gauntlet tightly around the boy's throat. He kneeled over the boy and glared right into his deep blue eyes. The boy gasped at the sudden blockage of his wind pipe.

Justice reacted violently to Fenris’s intervention. He sent Fenris flying backwards, snapping the boy's neck from the sheer force of the elf being ripped away from his body. Fenris smacked into the rocky mountain side.

Hawke screamed his name, but she quickly redirected her attention to Anders. “Calm down, Anders. It’s over. The Blood Mages are dead.” She held her hands up to him, as if trying to show him that she meant no harm. The light in Anders eyes glitched, then Anders doubled over in pain, vying for control.

“I’ve got him, go see to Fenris!” Aveline grabbed Anders and attempted to keep him centered. Anders leaned into Aveline as he regained control. It was obvious to everyone that Anders was losing it, and each time Justice emerged, it chipped more and more pieces away from Anders sanity.

Fenris was slumped over himself against the side of the mountain. Hawke gripped his face and spoke his name. When he didn’t respond, Hawke gently slapped him. Fenris’s body flinched at the hit, but his eyes didn’t open. She felt for a pulse and almost cried out in joy when she found one. It was weak, but still there. “He’s only knocked unconscious.” Anders said breathlessly.

Hawke pulled him from the mountainside and into her arms. She gasped and fell back to her knees at the solid weight that was working against her. Blood from the back of his head smeared on her arm and clumped in his hair. “We need to get him to the Clinic, I can stop any internal bleeding, but I need more Lyrium than we brought to do so.” Anders added, “I can walk Aveline, help her carry Fenris.”

Aveline leaned over Fenris as she looked right into Hawke’s tearing eyes. “Keep yourself together, Champion, we need to get him back.” Her voice was encouraging but gentle. “Can you pick him up? We can both act as a crutch to get him down.”

“What if he--”

“Hawke we don’t have time to go over ‘what ifs’, pick him up by his waist, get his arm around your neck and I’ll do the same.” Hawke secured her arm around his waist. Aveline did the same and both of the woman managed to lift the solid, almost dead weight, of Fenris. Hawke wrapped his arm around her neck and gripped onto his gauntlet tightly.

Anders was already 3/4ths down Sundermount when Hawke and Aveline finally got back to the path. When they got halfway down at an extremely rapid pace, Fenris began to stir back into consciousness.

Fenris felt as if he was being held under sand. He couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything. The fog in his mind was too dense to try and fight through, he felt helpless, which did not sit well with him. When the fog began to lift, there was a brief moment that set him smack in the middle of memory and reality. Danarius’ disembodied voice echoed in his cloudy mind, _“His name is Fenris, my Little Wolf. Take him to my chambers and monitor his health, it would be a shame to loose such an investment this early in the game. In the meantime, I have a senate to impress.”_

Fenris flared to life, his Lyrium markings flashed and he erupted in wild, flighting movements. He would not be captured again, every fibre of his being refused to give into the fight he had worked so hard to win. He would not bow to anyone ever again. His gauntlets clawed into the women’s armor and his legs kicked wildly under him.

“Fenris!” Hawke gasped at the sudden explosion of his actions.

Then the pain smacked into Fenris like a wall. His back screamed against the movements and agonizing pain ripped through his being. His skull hammered behind his eyes. A cry of pain tore from his throat. When the shock of it all snapped off in his mind, he ceased all movement and began to apologize profusely in a pain ridden voice for causing any harm to Aveline or to Hawke.

His jaw gritted around another cry of pain that swelled in his chest. “ _Rynne_ \--” He choked out but the movement of his head caused his spine to convulse with sharp, stabbing pains. Tears formed in his eyes.

“Can’t you put him back under, Anders?” Hawke snarled down to the Mage as she tightened her grip around Fenris. Hawke knew Fenris wouldn’t sit still for the rest of the way, it was simply not in his nature.

“I could hit him again, if that’s what you mean.” Aveline offered as her jaw gnashed together. The movements of Fenris had knocked her off balance and they all almost went tumbling down the side of the mountain. The sharp claws of his gauntlets bit into her armor as he tried to muscle through the intense pain he was feeling.

“I do have--” Anders didn’t bother finishing. He turned and casted off a quick sleeping spell from his staff. When the spell hit Fenris, he immediately went limp again. It wouldn’t do anything for the pain, but it would stop him long enough to prevent any further injury.

Anders cleared out the spiders that remained within Sundermount Pass. They passed through the Dalish camp and quickened their pace when they saw the gates to Kirkwall in the distance. “I will run ahead and get the Clinic set up.” He sprinted off towards the gates that head to Darktown.

Hawke and Aveline hauled ass behind him.

When they arrived, Anders had cleared off a table for Fenris. He was downing a bottle of Lyrium and he could feel the power sparking within him. “Lay him down, face to the table.” Hawke and Aveline quickly followed his instructions. Hawke shifted his head so it wasn’t being pressed into the wood.

Fenris was waking back up from his forced slumber. His eyes fluttered open and his body tightened against the pain. He clenched his jaw and tried to fight off the agony. “You have to stay still, Fenris. Anders is going to heal you but you have to cooperate.” She soothed him as her hands grazed across his face.

“He knew something.” Fenris groaned as his claws clamped around the legs of the table. The movement sent agonizing waves down his spine. Aveline peeled off his pauldrons and threw them to the ground. She took a dagger and cut open the back of Fenris’s tunic, revealing his horribly bruised back.

Anders pressed his fingertips to Fenris’s skin and Fenris cringed at the touch. Orange light illuminated from his hands. The light moved in soothing ways as the bruises on Fenris’s skin slowly lost their dark color. Then his hands moved to Fenris’s skull, healing the swelling in his brain and mending whatever cracks he might have there. This slow process continued for half an hour. Ander's features were tight with concentration and Fenris's were contorted with agony and disgust.

Fenris felt the pain reduce to a dull throbbing. When Anders removed his hands, Fenris had to resist the urge to curl up in a ball from the magic that once again touched his skin. The feeling was all too familiar in a sick and deplorable way.

 **  
** “He should be fine. I couldn’t heal everything completely so it’s just going to have to heal naturally. The only downside is, I don’t recommend that he be moved out of the clinic.”


End file.
